


(bonus!fic) through the endless dark

by inkin_brushes



Series: Immortals (Vamp AU) [57]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mayhaps, is this Hurt/Comfort???, vampires in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: “I thought,” Wonshik whispered, his voice cracking shamefully as he spoke, “I was about to lose you all over again.”
Relationships: Kim Wonshik | Ravi/Lee Hongbin
Series: Immortals (Vamp AU) [57]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/425302
Comments: 9
Kudos: 150





	(bonus!fic) through the endless dark

**Author's Note:**

> this was a c-word i wrote last summer and then just... forgot to post. i didn't wanna post it before i put up the next chapter of incarna and then i didn't update incarna until last month oops. 
> 
> This drabble takes place after Sanghyuk is attacked in [help my lifeless frame to breathe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283423), when Jaehwan sends Wonshik and Hongbin to collect the deceased vamp's body. 
> 
> If for some reason you're reading this without having read the rest of the series, all you need to know is Wonshik and Hongbin just had a scary near-forever-death experience so now they're making the mushy mushy eyes at each other.

Wonshik shouldn’t have been, considering his former profession, but he was proud of himself for managing to hold himself together for as long as he did. They’d managed to get Sanghyuk all the way to the house, returning him to Jaehwan’s clutches, and had come back up under the wide open night sky, before he finally had to stop to fall apart, just a little. 

“You know for a second there, I really thought Jaehwan was going to go ballistic on us,” Hongbin was saying, several steps ahead. He went several more, before he realized Wonshik hadn’t responded, and wasn’t beside him. He turned, brow crinkling in confusion even as that vague, almost triumphant smirk stayed settled on his lips. Maybe for Hongbin, this was a simple victory. “Wonshik?”

Wonshik stayed leaning up against the side of the alleyway, breathing deeply. He didn’t need to breathe, but old habits, and all that. It sure didn’t hurt.

“Are you alright?” Hongbin asked, doubling back, leaving the amber light coming in from the main street and coming to Wonshik’s side. He reached out, touching Wonshik’s arm, and his hand still had streaks of blood on it. They should have washed up, should have changed, but playing clean up crew couldn’t wait. 

It was hard, though, to look at that ugly blood stain soaked into the side of Hongbin’s shirt, still tacky and drying. 

“I thought,” Wonshik whispered, his voice cracking shamefully as he spoke, “I was about to lose you all over again.”

The slight smile of triumph finally slid off Hongbin’s face, and Wonshik hurt that he’d made it happen, but it couldn’t be helped. “Wonshik—”

Wonshik cupped Hongbin’s face with both of his hands, and Hongbin’s mouth snapped shut. He rubbed his thumbs over Hongbin’s cheeks, staring into those large, brown eyes. Hongbin stared back, silent, waiting, the stars glittering against his irises. “I wanted to save Sanghyuk,” Wonshik said hoarsely, once he’d relocated his voice, “and I’m so glad we did, but you’re my world, Hongbin.” One of his hands drifted down, brushing over Hongbin’s side until he could press it against that drying blood, where the wound had been. It was healed now, of course, but Wonshik wasn’t going to forget watching that silver blade flashing down, sinking into Hongbin’s skin. He’d been dazed and in pain and utterly unable to move, to do anything. That helpless moment had felt like an eternity, like hell. 

Maybe Hongbin could read it in his eyes. He grabbed Wonshik’s wrists, bringing his hands together so he could clasp them both between his own. “Watching you get hurt wasn’t easy for me either, you know,” Hongbin murmured, eyes glinting. “Why do you think I—”

“Flew across the asphalt to literally catch our villain by the jugular?” Wonshik said, remembering that too. Hongbin had been beautiful, in a terrible, graceful way. But that had been eclipsed by the pain, by the fear. It turned out a broken back bone and a caved in temple were a doozy on vampires, as much as on humans. Wonshik had healed, but not fast enough. He worked to give Hongbin a weak smile. “I just thought Jaehwan’s penchant for theatricality had worn off on you.” 

The corners of Hongbin’s mouth slowly lifted, as if Wonshik’s words were slowly sinking in, amusing him more and more as they were absorbed. Finally he let out a puff of laughter, canines a little sharp, and the ice chip that had been lodged somewhere in the vicinity of Wonshik’s heart melted off finally at the sight. Vampires didn’t really get adrenaline rushes the same way humans did, but Wonshik found they still got— weirdly zingy, unpleasantly fluttery. He hadn’t realized quite how untethered he felt until this moment, with his hands solidly in Hongbin’s, that familiar gentle smile shining up at him. It made Wonshik smile too, maybe a little softer.

“I was angry,” Hongbin said, none of the mentioned emotion in his voice or on his face in this moment. He just looked soft around the edges right now. Hongbin was— quiet and had a serenity to his bearing that had always been appealing to Wonshik, but yes, he also had a temper on him. It took a lot to get down to it, especially now, but it was there, and it was something to be reckoned with. Wonshik was, stupidly, touched that this time it had reared itself on his behalf. Hongbin shook his head a little, smile turned rueful, and let go fo Wonshik’s hands. “Also, God, I don’t want to think about what Jaehwan would have done, if he’d been there. Theatrics would have been the least of it.”

Wonshik shivered a little, but— “I can’t imagine it would be any more grisly than what you did.”

Hongbin blinked, confusion, then something that might have been hurt, flickering through his eyes, before it was all washed away under a mask of placidity. “Oh, I think it would have been,” he said simply, no trace of upset in his tone, but Wonshik wrapped his arms around Hongbin’s middle anyway, pulling him closer so their noses bumped.

“You were amazing, and brave,” Wonshik said fiercely. Hongbin couldn’t think— that Wonshik would disapprove, would judge him for what he did tonight. He’d fought, and won, for their sake. Wonshik was proud of him. Hongbin lowered his gaze, eyelashes sweeping down, but he didn’t turn his face away. When Wonshik spoke again, it was softer, huskier, but no less intent. “You’re always so brave.”

“You mean reckless,” Hongbin muttered, but it was playful, and when Wonshik kissed him he found himself tasting Hongbin’s smile. So much had changed but this, this was the same, the feel of Hongbin in his arms, Hongbin’s gentle laughter against his lips. “Come on Casanova,” Hongbin mumbled into Wonshik’s mouth, pulling away just a little. “We need to get going, before some humans stumble on something they shouldn’t.” He stepped out of Wonshik’s embrace, but as he went he grabbed Wonshik’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and tugged him towards the main street.

Wonshik cleared his throat, blinking, to remember himself, where they were, what they needed to do. He didn’t go along with Hongbin’s gentle tugging, and instead said, “We’re better off on the rooftops— Jaehwan taught me it’s safer, when you’re going farther.”

Hongbin looked intrigued by that notion, and together they quickly and silently scaled a fire escape, coming out on top of a five story building. The sky was bigger here. Wonshik didn’t want to run, not the way only vampires could, so they settled for a moderate pace, Wonshik helping Hongbin over the smaller jumps and boxy air conditioning units even though Hongbin didn’t need the assistance. Surprisingly, Hongbin didn’t make a quip about it. He seemed to be thinking about something, his brow wrinkled by the slightest furrow.

“What is it?” Wonshik murmured, and Hongbin’s eyes refocused. He seemed a little startled by the question, and took another few moments to form a response. Wonshik let him, placing his feet carefully as they walked across a sloped, tiled rooftop, guiding Hongbin alongside him. 

“I don’t— know what it was like, for you. When I was turned,” Hongbin said slowly, and of all the things he could have said, Wonshik really hadn’t been expecting that. “I know it was— hard.” 

Wonshik said softly, “Yes.” There didn’t seem to be anything else he could say to that. It wasn’t something that could be played down, but he also didn’t want Hongbin to feel guilty over it either. Guiltier. 

Hongbin inhaled, like he needed to steady himself. “You’re brave too, Wonshik. I don’t think I could go on the way you did, if something happened to you,” he whispered, and Wonshik was so startled by the admission that he stuttered to a stop. Hongbin had to give his hand a tug, before he remembered to keep moving. “I know I came late to the feelings party, I know I— didn’t invest myself in our relationship the way I should have when we were human.” Wonshik found himself shaking his head, though Hongbin was very determinitely not looking at him, eyes fixated on their feet, stepping over uneven tiles, and so did not see. “But trust me, Wonshik, seeing you get hurt tonight was as awful for me, as you watching me get hurt.”

“You screamed,” Wonshik blurted, and then snapped his mouth shut, teeth clicking together, before he could say any more stupid things. As if hearing Hongbin cry out in pain had made it worse for him. Hongbin’s hand tightened on his, and Wonshik carefully said, “I don’t doubt you, Hongbin. I never have. We’re here.”

Hongbin swallowed. “We are. We’re here, and we’re okay.” He finally looked away from their feet, meeting Wonshik’s eyes and giving him a wavery smile. “And with any luck I will never hear the sound of your spine snapping again.”

“That is a very strange sentence,” Wonshik said, wincing. He braced his free hand against his back, like he was an old man. There was only solidity now, all the shattered pieces hewn back together. “Being immortal is weird. I think I’d been— taking it for granted.” Hongbin cocked his head a little, questioning without words, so Wonshik continued, “I guess once we were both— this way, and we’d decided to stay together like this, everything just sort of felt very, I don’t know, immovable? Untouchable? Together forever, and all that.”

Hongbin’s expression was so soft, and Wonshik was glad he couldn’t blush anymore. “The amount of faith you have that we’re not going to get sick of one another five hundred years down the line is a level of optimism I admire,” Hongbin said, gently playful, easy. 

“There’s that too,” Wonshik agreed, smiling. “I just mean— bad things can happen, even to vampires.”

“Especially to vampires.” Hongbin held up his hand, slim streaks of blood drying brown and beginning to flake off. “We’ve been the bad things, more than once.” 

Wonshik didn’t want to think about that, about the hunters they were, about the hunters they had to watch out for in the future. “Yeah, I just— I don’t know. After having my heart put through a blender for a year and a half, finally having you back at my side, and nearly invulnerable— I lost sight of things.”

“What things?”

“How I shouldn’t take our days — nights — together for granted. Even if we do have eternity. It’s no excuse to get complacent.” Wonshik nodded, mostly to himself, and something about his expression made Hongbin giggle. 

“Wonshik,” he said, “tonight was, God willing, a fluke. This wasn’t even our trouble.” He patted Wonshik’s hand in his a little condescendingly, but Wonshik wasn’t going to mention it. If he did, he’d probably get an equally condescending pat on his head. “Don’t worry, I will happily spend the next few millennia at your side being as boring as possible.”

“I hope so,” Wonshik muttered. The scent of blood was in the air, and something more putrid. Wonshik and Hongbin toed themselves to the edge of the rooftop, with its rusty gutter, and looked down onto the familiar carnage in the street below. It seemed untouched, this part of town blissfully derelict and quiet. Together they leapt down, hitting the ground silently. The vampire’s body lay sprawled across the concrete of the sidewalk, dragged into a shadowed crevice before they’d taken Sanghyuk away. His heart sat on his mulched chest. Already his eyelids seemed concave, as if his eyes were rotting away. “I really hope so.”

Hongbin let go of his hand to saunter over to the body where he gingerly picked up the heart again, holding it with his thumb and forefinger by a dangling valve. He turned back to Wonshik with a wrinkled nose. “You know, I think we’re going to need to find a tarp.”

Wonshik sighed.


End file.
